No Looking Back
by ricecooker2000
Summary: Taking a step forward while she can still remember. A series of one-shots on how Anna copes in the aftermath.
1. No Blood

_Disclaimer: All characters belong to GoRa/GoHands and not by me. Cover pic also not owned by me, found it on the nets. OTL  
_

_Spoilers: Entire first season. The ending gave me too many feels and spawned this.  
_

* * *

xxxxxx

**_No Blood_**

xxxxxx

_Gray. It is all gray._

The old TV screen crackles with the news. Reconstruction of Ashinaka high school has long been completed. The destruction HOMRA and Scepter 4 left behind on that fateful day is now covered with pristine pavement and cold, unfeeling metal.

_All gray. All of it._

Izumo Kusanagi absentmindedly wipes a clean champagne flute with a rag. His gaze drifts over to the silent adolescent sitting by herself in a corner, barely making a dent on the leather booth seat.

Anna Kushina sits elegantly like a doll. Her back straight and her lithe, slender frame enveloped in black lace and ruffles.

She no longer wears red.

xxxxxx

xxxxxx

_Their king's death affected them all. Members of HOMBRA grieved, despaired, and then eventually left. Their numbers dwindled, till only a handful remained. There is no more king. No more burning auras to power their bodies._

_But Mikoto's passing affected Anna the most._

_At first, she wouldn't cry. She sank deeper into her shell, and talked to no one. Stared at her unmoving blood-colored marbles until the sun went down._

_Everyone was worried. It was the fourth month when her emotionless voice rang through the dingy bar, silencing the dull argument Yata and Kamamoto were engaged in._

_"I found him."_

_"Who, Anna?" Kusangi was the first to recover._

_She did not bother answering him. Anna gathered her three marbles, tucked them into her pocket, and jumped off of her barstool to head out the door. The remaining members of HOMRA shared a look, and immediately followed. She led them through the busy streets of Shizume. Past the shadowy alleys and the smoking manholes._

_They ended up in a sunlight residential area. The gang looked very out of place amidst the white-washed walls and well-manicured plants._

_Anna took out a marble. Walked right up to the front gate and stared through the red crystal ball._

_"He's here," she murmured. She looked up at Kusangi with solemnity. "The new Red King."_

_There was a collective intake of breath. Yata whooped. Bando and Akagi barraged her with questions. Only Kusangi remained motionless, his gaze trained on the middle-class residential building in front of them._

_Anna's lip trembled. Her eyes tightened with the barest amount of movement._

_Kusangi answered the question for her. "He isn't the same is he? This is a reborn King and his power hasn't even awakened."_

_She shook her head sadly. The marble went back into her pocket, to clink miserably with its companions._

_"So? We just have to grab the guy and go. He can awaken whenever. As long as he's with us!" Yata objected. "HOMRA will return back to what it was!"_

_Just then, the front door opened. The group watched silently as a boy, no more than ten years old, burst out with a toy airplane in his hand. His mouth made imitation sounds of gunshots and engines as he ran around the front yard with the airplane, oblivious of the dumbstruck audience right outside the gate._

_"That's... him?" Kamamoto whispered. Everyone could hear the disappointment in those words._

_A chuckle came from the tall, blonde man in the group. "Well, well, he always wanted a normal life. Looks like he got his wish," Kusangi smiled. He patted Anna on the head._

_"Good work."_

_Her crimson eyes followed the boy. There was a faint, red glow about him. But it was nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the beautiful red flame of Mikoto._

_He was really gone. Her king. Dead._

_She felt it that snowy day on the beach. She saw for herself the dance of red fireflies in the night sky._

_But now the evidence is in front of her and there was no more denying it._

_The tears came. For the first time in her life, Anna acted her age and let out a keening wail. The group of delinquents gathered around her, and tried to offer comfort in an awkward, clumsy way. Kusangi finally gathered her small, fragile frame in his arms, and carried her back to their bar as she cried herself to sleep._

xxxxxx

xxxxxx

The news reporter's sudden announcement interrupts the bartender's reminiscing.

"It's been five years since the emergence of a Sword of Damocles. But earlier this morning, there has been a reported sighting caught on tape..." The screen switches over to what looks to be an amateur home video of the cityscape. Kusangi watches grimly as a pillar of light appears, shimmers, and unravels to reveal an unfamiliar shape.

A completely black sword.

"Scepter 4 has not released an official announcement regarding the incident. Speculations are running wild on the nets, and while there has been no violence reported, it seems that the few years of peace in Shizume City have enjoyed might come to an end-"

Kusangi abruptly turns it off. He sets down the remote on the immaculately polished bar counter.

"The Black King graces us with his presence," he murmurs. He directs his next sentence to the sole other occupant of the room.

"Anna. Perhaps it is time?"

The marbles roll in a clockwork motion, making a rhythmic note against the wooden table. The circles grow tighter, and tighter. Until the three meet together in a harmonious plink.

"Yes." No longer a child and resplendent in her pale, colorless glamour, she rises to her feet. Her black dress rustles heavily, but she walks with quiet strength and determination.

"The Red King awaits."

xxxxxx

xxxxxx

The ringing of the phones will not stop. Even when Reisi Munakata is secluded in his private office, he can still hear the endless clamoring of the telephone. The news of a possible appearance of the Black King has mobilized the entire Scepter 4. For hours now, their office has been barraged with endless inquiries and the prying media.

"Sir," a stern, but feminine voice speaks up behind him. "No reported sighting so far. We are now spreading our patrol area to cover Sector D, F, and E."

"Very well." His violet gaze opens momentarily to regard his lieutenant, and then closes again. When Seri Awashima does not budge from the front of his desk, he says, "Is there something the matter?"

She hesitates only for a fraction of a second. But no one can hide anything from the Blue King and Seri doesn't even want to. "Sir. Why are we issuing a Level: Prussian Blue? Nothing serious has happened."

"Yet. Awashima. Nothing has happened yet," he corrects her. "But the appearance of the Black King is never a good thing."

"How so?"

"While Gold and Silver compliments each other, the other colors exist to balance each other out. The Colorless one, the Seventh King, exist as the irrational wildcard. The one who can upset the balance because he has no color, has no purpose. But just as equally disturbing is the Black King. Who absorbs color in order to maintain his own parasitic existence."

She straightens noticeably. "Do you mean- are you saying that the Black King...?"

"Yes," Munakata grimly answers, "He is coming to take our powers."

* * *

Notes:

- Idon'tknowwhatI'mdoingIshouldbeupdatingother stories! Hello K fandom. I might have fallen and I can't get up. lol

- Hopefully this will be short and painless. Planning for 3 chaps at the most. Prepare for Anna and mucho angst...

- There's a lot of mumbo jumbo and pure speculations on my part. Don't need to take me seriously. hehe


	2. No Bone

xxxxxx

**_No Bone_**

xxxxxx

"C'mon punk, is that all ya got?"

"Not so tough now huh? We're going to teach you to show respect to your seniors!"

Another punch. A muffled groan.

The group of upperclassmen loom over the freshman. His blood already splatters over the cement, but the blows do not stop.

"Take that!"

"I dare you to look at me like that again!"

"Stop."

The rowdy teenagers pause. In the light framed by the alley, a girl and a middle-aged man appear.

"Now now, I thought kids these days were supposed to play nice," the man drawls, taking a drag from his lit cigarette and then snuffing out the stub. He takes out a metal bat, and dusts it off with a sleeve. "I think Yata would have been better for this, but since he's working right now, I guess I can use some exercise."

He only has to take one step forward, and the group of high school students begin scrambling away like rats. Even if he no longer possess an Aura and psychic abilities, HOMRA's second-in-command still effortlessly generates an intimidating presence.

All that is left is the beat-up freshman. He slumps against the wall, his own blood painting his school uniform a dull red. His right eye is puffed up into a black eye, and his head lolls to the side to regard the new strangers.

The girl walks into view, and catches his attention. She is abnormally pale, her hair a smooth, silk curtain around her shoulders and ending at her waist. Her entire person is adorned in black, from her dark lace gloves, to her Victorian dress and the platform heels. A wide-brimmed hat covers her head, silky ruffles of black draping down and almost obscuring her eyes.

She kneels down in front of him, and wordlessly brings a hand to cup his bruised cheek. He twitches. Tries to move away but she touches him anyways.

A jolt. He feels it deep in his chest and doesn't know what it is. The teenager stares back at her wine-colored eyes, and struggles for words.

"Who-who are you?"

She closes her eyes slowly. An eternity passes behind her eyelids, and she speaks softly. "My name is Anna. I have an offer for you, Kenji Akatora."

Burnt umber widen at her words. "How do you know my name? I've never met you before!"

She continues in a dead voice, as if she doesn't hear him. "You have dormant abilities more powerful than you can ever imagine, but you have yet to awaken to them. Come with us, and we will show you how to harness it."

The older man leans against the wall. He lights another cigarette, and watches the two with hidden interest. It doesn't take as long as he expected. Before his second drag, Anna already has the teenager on his feet, her hand lightly tugging him forward by the shirt sleeve.

The boy is awestruck by her. That much is obvious. She is beautiful and brilliant in her own right. She must seem like an angel, descending from the heavens to rescue him out of his misery.

The bartender sighs. The kid will have to learn the hard way.

Anna's heart isn't reachable. It went up in flames five years ago, as HOMRA's red lit up the midnight sky.

xxxxxxx

xxxxxxx

"Kuro! Long time no see, how have you been?"

"I can see time have treated you well, Master."

"What a silly thing to say. I'm the immortal King, my body does not change no matter how much time passes."

"You say it like its a disease."

"Well... it isn't exactly a blessing either. But let's not dwell on that Kuro. Do you have news from outside?"

"Yes. The Black King has appeared, and claimed his first victim, an officer from Scepter 4."

"Is the Blue King aware of this?"

"Yes, and he has utilized his forces in a wide-spread search throughout the entire city."

"Ahh Kuro...I would hate to overstep my boundaries. Let him handle it then."

"... you're just too lazy to get up from your bed."

"Right you are. How well my wife knows me!"

"I. Am. Not. Your. Wife."

xxxxxxx

xxxxxxx

Everything about this new King is dull. Dull, messy chestnut tangles that can use a haircut. Dull, lifeless eyes. Even his voice lacks energy, and she can feel hope slipping away before it even flew down.

Kusanagi seems to like him though. The man welcomes the newcomer to his bar with enthusiasm. He ushers the scrawny teenager to the bathroom, helps him clean up, and later fixes him a drink at the bar.

Before they can utter a word, the front door bangs open.

"Hey Kusangi, I hear we picked up the kid?" The loud-mouth known as Misaki Yata barges in with a wild look in his eyes. He flips his skateboard up, and carries it in one arm. Right after him, comes Rikio Kamamoto, dressed in a clean suit and flashy shoes. He lumbers over to the bar, and sizes up the teenager behind his dark, inscrutable shades. "Where did you find him?"

"In an alley. Getting beat up by high schoolers," Kusangi replies in an airy tone. He begins to polish the already immaculate bar counter, snatching up any stray condensation from the kid's drink.

Yata scoffs. He stalks right over to the newcomer, and cocks an eyebrow at the frumpy, spineless-looking appearance.

"He still looks weak. You sure he's ready for this?"

At that comment, a fist slams down on the solid wood.

"I am not!" Kenji Akatora growls, and everyone can feel the familiar Aura stirring underneath. "I am not weak!"

Anna glances over. It is no mistake. Right then, there was a flare of red in the corner of her vision.

_His_ name slips out of her lips in a soundless whisper. Nobody hears. But somehow, the freshman turns and looks her straight in the eye.

She's the one that feels the jolt this time. It unsettles her. She rises from her seat, and shuts herself in her room.

xxxxxxx

xxxxxxx

_She was only eight years old when she first joined HOMBRA. Like most Strains, Anna was drawn to the power of a King even before she became a clansman._

_It happened without warning. One moment she sat isolated in her curtained room, and in the next her gaze was fixated on a glittering red star that outshone anything she has ever seen._

_He was majestic. A lion in front of his pride. And she wanted to see him again._

_It was the first time her marbles failed her. She tried desperately to find the red spirit. Again and again. Till her head was dizzy from following the concentric circles that never stopped._

_She had no parents, no family. Strains reawakened with none of the memories of their previous life. So how did she know she was missing something when it was never there to begin with?_

_It was snowing that day. Her boots made tiny footprints on the fresh powder as she wandered the streets. Her color-blindness did not help. She could only rely on her instincts, and before she knew it, she was hopelessly lost._

_The sun sank. Night rose, and it was in an alley when it happened. She still clearly remembered the thug who cornered her. His leering gaze and foul-smelling words disgusted her, but she could do nothing. The rough brick of the wall dug into her skin, but she refused to cry out for help. He reached for her. The dirty fingernail only inches away from her face when it all went up in flames._

_She watched, face free of emotion as the thug burned in front of her. His flesh blistered and the whites of his bones bared through the dissolving muscles. For the entire minute, she watched. When it was all done, there was not a trace of the man's existence. Not even a speck._

_He stood in front of her then. The fiery, breath-taking red. He said nothing and she could not make out his features because he shone so bright. She knew at once he must be beautiful._

_But what really amazed her was that she could feel him. His Aura was warm. Like the heavenly sun, this person radiated heat._

_And that's when she knew. The feeling that was home._

xxxxxx

xxxxxx

Things have changed in five years.

The unruly teenagers who used hung around Kusangi's bar and loitered in street corners have pushed off of the wall, and walked off in different directions. Some of them got jobs. Others went onto college. They grew up, matured, and moved on with their lives.

But in HOMRA's dimly lit, pine-scented bar, some things remain frozen in time. On any given day, Kusangi would be behind the counter, experimenting with new cocktails (red bean seems to be his main downfall these days) or polishing glassware.

If Anna closes her eyes, she can almost see it the way it was before.

The gang would lounge around the bar stools and living room area. Akagi and Bando would be teasing each other over some trivial things. Chitose would watch as Yata do tricks on his skateboard, as Kamamoto tried to coax Sutr into sharing his snacks. In the midst of it all, there was Totsuka. Armed with his fancy camera, he would snap and record all of them. If she asked him nicely, he would sit down with his guitar and sing for them.

And in the middle of the room, where he lounged like a majestic feline, there would be Mikoto. He wouldn't say anything. Sometimes it even seemed like he was sleeping. But his eyes did not miss a single thing. He was the center. They were all drawn to him, colorful planets spinning around a dying star.

That is exactly what a sun is. It burns bright because he's on the path to self-destruction.

Anna breathes in slowly. Lets it all out, and reopens her eyes.

There is no music playing. The seats are empty and the afternoon sunlight streams through tinted window. Akagi and Chitose are full-time students at a local university. Bando, Kamamoto as well as Yata, all have full time jobs. Sutr disappeared on his own one day, and they never heard from him again.

Without warning, the front door bursts open.

"Didja see that?! He almost flew!" Yata crowed. Right behind him, Kamamoto walked in, shaking his head when Kusangi raises a brow in question. Akatora slinks in quietly afterwards, without a greeting, and sits down gingerly on the sofa. Right where Mikoto used to sit.

"This idiot almost killed the kid."

A heavy sigh. "Some things never change, do they? Yata explain yourself."

"Hey! A King's power awakens when it is most needed right? Well I thought...if we put Akatora into a... slightly dangerous situation, wouldn't that speed up the process?" The redhead answers with a smug grin. Kamamoto proceeds to fill in the blanks, informing Kusangi and Anna of how Yata had tried to push Akatora off the skywalk bridge, but thankfully Akatora managed to grab the ledge when he was tipped over.

Anna glances over at him. Akatora is staring straight ahead, his mouth a grim line.

"You should have told them," she speaks in a flat voice, "that you already have your powers."

Three heads snap up to stare at her. And then simultaneously whips around to regard the silent teenager.

The new Red King shrugs. "Whatever."

"What!" Yata leaps over the top of a chair, and leans forward. "When were you going to tell us punk?" He lightly punches Akatora on the shoulder, a wide grin splitting his face. Akatora doesn't move. Doesn't smile.

"Didn't think I needed to."

Yata throws back his head and laughs. "Listen to this kid! Of course you gotta tell us, how else will we know to pledge ourselves to be your clan?"

When Akatora doesn't respond, a still silence falls upon the group.

"...you are going to make us your clansmen...right?" Yata slowly asks. Akatora rises from the couch. His hand goes up to rest on Yata's shoulder. Even though the vertically-challenged skateboarder is nine years his senior, at that moment, Akatora sounds much older.

"Yata. Let's not. You have good friends and live a great life. Why change that? Being a Red will only bring you more enemies." Without another word, the freshman walks out of HOMRA, leaving the redhead standing in the middle of the room, shocked and speechless.

The door clicks shut. With a yell, Yata kicks and knocks over a nearby table. Gritting his teeth and snatching up his jacket, he yells out, "Damn this kid!"

With a nod from Kusangi, Kamamoto follows his partner out of the bar. Anna reaches down, and takes a small sip of her lukewarm tea.

"Interesting guy, this new King," the blonde man comments lightly. He eyes the upturned table with annoyance, "He's already created such a fuss in the short time he's been here."

"I don't like him," Anna announces finally.

Kusangi smiles. "Reminds you of Mikoto, doesn't he?"

Her colorless lips tighten just a fraction. She sets down her glass carefully, and does not say anything.

xxxxxxx

xxxxxxx

"Kuro! What is this? What happened to Neko?"

"I found her in the back alleys of Shizume warehouses. Her powers has been taken, ripped from her body so that only an empty shell remains. In fact, the only reason I knew she was in trouble was when I couldn't detect her Aura levels or Strain presence at all."

"...The Black King. He's responsible for this."

"Correct, this reeks of his handiwork."

"H-how many more?"

"Two others from what I gather. An assassin who goes by the name Maria Yukiburi, and the first victim, Saruhiko Fushimi from Scepter 4."

"Dammit. He's gone too far. I thought Blue would take care of him, but it seems like the Gold King and I might have to get involved at this point."

"What do you plan to do?"

"Find him. And stop him by whatever means necessary."

"And Neko?"

"I owe it to her too. Without her Aura, she is just a lifeless doll. Maybe... maybe when we defeat the Black King she'll be back to normal..."

"This is not your fault, Shiro."

"Thanks, Kuro. But I should have acted sooner. The Black King is not one to be taken lightly after all. Will you help me?"

"Of course. Always."

* * *

Notes: Huh... this might turn out more than 3 chaps. Oh darn... lol

- I hope this format isn't confusing. It all makes sense in my mind...OTL Just FYI Anna is 16, Akatora is 15, and add five years to everyone else's age.

- I adore writing these flashbacks. Next chap is going to be my fav~ kekeke

- Red bean... a shoutout to Awashima and her eccentric tastes. lol

- Akatora = roughly translate to "Red Tiger". While Mikoto was surrounded by his gang (lion and his pride), the tiger is more of a loner.

- No idea how Strains originate, everything is speculation on my part.


End file.
